Page 18 of Their Ruthless Sadist

I felt like a teenager being called to the principal’s office for something. I wanted to shove Case in front of me so I could hide behind him as we approached the open door to Zeke’s office.

“Hey, Zeke,” Case said in a ridiculous attempt to sound casual.

I wanted to laugh because the man nearly choked on his own words. I stifled it by squeezing my lips together.

“Pretty boy,” Zeke acknowledged from where he sat behind that massive desk.

I stepped around Case and took a good, long look at the Sadist who plagued my thoughts. His bald head gleamed in the fluorescent lights above him, his dark eyebrows shadowed those piercing black eyes, and his thick beard framed the lips I’d fantasized about. Yep. I was a fucking mess because this man, who wasn’t attractive in the traditional sense—he was too aggressive-looking for that—made every cell in my body come alive.

“Cowboy,” Zeke smirked. “Nice hat.”

“Thanks.”

“You ever ride a horse, cowboy?”

“Yes, Sir.” I swallowed. “I mean, Zeke.”

“Ever ride a bull?”

For fuck’s sake. I actually started to sweat from that simple question.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Actually, yes. I have.” However, I got the feeling Zeke wasn’t referring to the four-legged version.

Tank chose that moment to wander over and sniff my hand. I couldn’t resist petting the dog, even as I wondered how a beast like Zeke had ended up with the cutest damn dog I’d ever seen.

“Hey, Tank,” I greeted softly, letting my gaze naturally shift to the floor.

“We came by for the keys to the apartment,” Case said, his voice stronger than before.

I was impressed.

“Did you now?”

“Yes, Zeke,” he said obediently, a slight tremble making an appearance.

I’d bet money Case’s cock was as hard as a steel pipe right about now. Mine was, which was weird because I was still petting the dog.

Stop petting the dog, you dumb ass.

Standing up straight, I glanced over and noticed two keys sitting on the top of Zeke’s desk. Were those ours? Was he wanting us to grab them and turn around? This could’ve been a simple in and out, but Zeke made no move to get them.

“What’s in it for me?” Zeke asked, steepling his hands as he leaned back in his chair. It was a wonder the damn thing didn’t snap in two from the sheer weight of him alone. I’d venture to guess the man weighed somewhere between two sixty and two eighty. At six eight, he was a monster. Which had me curious as to the size of his dick.

No. Nix that. I wasn’t curious. I was here to get the keys. Then, if I couldn’t catch some Z’s, maybe I’d find some coffee, and I could get on with my day.

“What would you like?” Case asked.

Christ Almighty. That was not a question you asked Zeke Lautner. The gleam in his eyes alone said he was thinking all sorts of things, and I doubted a single one of them didn’t involve some sort of humiliation.

Strangely, that made my cock harder.

Zeke motioned across the room. “Have a seat.”

It wasn’t a request; it was a command. One that had Case and me moving across the room even as I wondered why the rush.

I’d long ago stopped questioning the perversion I had when it came to Domination and submission. It wasn’t something I’d experienced until after I came to work for Trent. Oh, sure, I’d gotten off a few times to an ex-boyfriend wanting to pull my hair or nail me to the wall. Aggressive sex had always turned me on. But it wasn’t until I’d witnessed a scene at Dichotomy between a Sadist and a masochist that I’d truly understood some of the darkness that fueled me. It was then that I’d realized I hadn’t even scratched the surface of the true depth of my depravity.